The Secret Club's Secret
by DashRenders
Summary: A BotW commission: The Gerudo Greta exercises her femdom hobby with her "special visitor" and latest member of the Gerudo Secret Club. - NSFW 18


Another (anonymous) commission for the Gerudo Greta, who enjoys exercising femdom. (Studying how to write that made for an interesting lunch break...)

 **The Secret Club's Secret  
** Link x Greta  
by Dash Anhelo

* * *

Greta brought the match to the burner. Scented smoke began to waft from the lip, and she brought it away, extinguishing it with a flick of her hand. Her little secret shop began to smell like vanilla, a marked improvement over the dust and sand from Gerudo town.

"Isn't that better?" she asked, admiring her 'guest.' The romantic lighting made the delicate silk he wore shine in the darkness of her "always evening" parlour. Pale, Hylian skin glowed invitingly. The veil he wore did nothing to hide the blush staining his cheeks. A firm arousal was turning the baggy sirwal he wore tight, and she suppressed the urge to grin.

"You're too pretty," she hummed to herself, circling him as he stood before her like one of her wooden mannequins. "Far too pretty than a voe ought to be. Did you know that?" Greta let herself to touch him, allowing her long, strong fingers to dance across his abdomen and feeling it twitch and jump from the sudden contact. There were muscles there – lean and more defined than most of the other voe she had seen, but nothing compared to her Gerudo sisters. Gretta's eyes roamed up over his form, noticing that his flushed cheeks had grown even darker.

She didn't hide her amused hum, favouring him with a finger that traced his jawbone.

"My my, little voe," she mused. "Did you enjoy being told you're pretty?"

And he was. Angular features. Clear skin. Hair like clean sand. For all their rules on allowing men in the city, she already knew just how some of her fellow Gerudo would react upon seeing him without his disguise. Dorrah may have been ruthless with keeping men out, but Ashai probably would have emptied her coffers to allow him a spot in her 'romance class.' Not to mention probably having Risa put in fetters to keep her from launching over the desks and biting him on the shoulder, intent on claiming him and cowing him at the same time.

But no. After secretly making ensembles for her friends to gift to men of their own, it was time for _her_ to profit a little. And she was determined to do it right, keeping this handsome voe under her care for a long time to come.

"I suppose I'll allow it," she said coolly, turning on her heel and sitting in the box seat nearby. "Come over here." She said it plainly, offering no room to argue or disagree. One leg crossed over the other, as much to appear relaxed as to hide her own growing arousal. Hesitantly, her little "club member" came and stood before her, trying not to fidget. She drank him in, jade eyes raking up and down over his form.

Oh, the splendid gear she could make for a frame like his, she thought. Fine silks and polished accessories to compliment every feature. With enough room to show off her emerald lipstick as she would kiss and bite and claim him as her own. And it would have been so easy, she thought. She was big and muscular, and his disguise would shred with just a few flicks of her wrist. But Greta had already waited a long time for this. Was waiting since he first whispered the password to her little store through the peephole. She wasn't about to jeopardise her prize now for the sake of a quick ride.

"What is your name?" she asked as if she were bored. Greta kept her features calm and relaxed as his brow furrowed behind his hanging fringe of hair.

"Link," he said, in a voice that was scratchy, almost as if he didn't use it very much. Scratchy, yet thick with need, she thought with approval.

"Mm," she nodded, allowing her gaze to study him more. "Turn around slowly for me, little voe," she instructed him. Link. It was a good name. Pretty. Unique. It suited him. She would be sure only to use it very, very sparingly when he was very good and followed her instructions clearly. It would be a reward. Until he earned it, he would just be her young man.

And Link swallowed and turned, fighting the urge to ball his fists up. There was something soothing but commanding about her that compelled him to yield. Greta resembled so many of her kinswomen – tall, muscular. A chest that was firm and pronounced, leading to a tapered waist that flared out into square hips. She was strong and powerful, the opposite of every other pretty girl he knew. The polar opposite of Zelda, feminine and curvy, who would be easy to embrace. Zelda who was a Princess.

But Greta was the Queen of her little secret store, sitting in her seat like it were her throne. The scent of Gerudo sands and the burning incense filled his mind with a relaxing fog. Even the skeletal clothing she had stitched from crushed, luminous rocks didn't bother him. They hung nearby like a ghostly audience, watching silently as he allowed her to inspect him and comment.

And shame him, he thought, cheeks growing warmer as he felt her firm, dark hand caressing over his backside. Fondly, but possessively. The silk of his disguise seemed to cling to him as she studied his form, shielding nothing.

"Come back around," he heard her say. "Face me." Link could hear the sound of the chair settling under her strong weight. Felt her eyes on him as he slowly turned. Held his breath as his shame, growing longer and firmer, was no doubt poking against the front of his loose sirwal. Greta grinned at him and he looked away, not able to face the knowing stare she gave him. Her features seemed sharp and devious and predatory. Red hair and dark skin and bright, emerald eyes that looked positively dangerous. His mind summoned an image of her rising from her seat, towering over him and ravishing him with her hands and lips and legs.

Link hung his head, painfully aware that his erection grew harder at the very idea.

"Take off your top," she said. "And your veil. I want to look at you." He hesitated, trying to reason that as a tailor she had no doubt seen it all before. Telling himself not to allow her to wield such power over him with her comfortable stare. But no sooner did her turn and offered her his side that she stopped him with a firm command.

"No. Face _me_. Look at me." Her hand was under his chin, lifting his embarrassed gaze towards her. She stared at him, staring unblinkingly at his face before sitting back against her seat and flicking her hand. A silent command to try again. Slowly, carefully, compelled to look her in the eye, Link shed himself of the silk and bangles and glittering jewels that composed his top. The loss of his veil, however, sent another flush of embarrassment through his chest.

Thin, powdery-blue silk did nothing to hide his features, he knew. He did not doubt that she saw every flicker of hesitance over his face. But dropping the tiny shield still made him feel all the more exposed. He was for all intents and purposes, inside Gerudo Town illegally. Whenever he walked through the square, he was painfully aware that a simple breeze would be his ruin. Now, even with the door shut and the bolts thrown across, Link couldn't help but feel that much more vulnerable.

Greta's painted lips grew into a full, satisfied smile. If she noticed his discomfort, she didn't worry. Or maybe she did, and she enjoyed it. A truly frightening idea. His thoughts scattered as she reached up, pressing a firm, wide palm against his ribs and pulling him forward. Link hesitated, his legs tensing to try and stay still. She levelled a disapproving glare, and immediately he stepped closer. He couldn't help but feel ashamed when she gave him such a stern look, even if he knew he did nothing wrong…

"There's a good voe," she said smoothly, and he felt her fingers spreading across his skin. Warm, darkened flesh traced various scars that crisscrossed his chest and side. Her eyes flicked from one mark to the next, and he had the distinct impression that she was taking stock of him, examining him as if she were evaluating a bolt of thread.

His cheeks darkened again. Not from the realisation, but for how much he wanted to measure up all of a sudden.

"Turn around," she commanded, and he did. Link slowly pivoted on the spot, allowing her bronze hand to trace patterns as he spun, stopping when she put the slightest pressure on him. He faced away from her now, towards the bolted door of her Gerudo Secret Club. Able to avoid the piercing, scrutinising gaze she gave him, but still feeling anxious over what kind of grade she was giving his back.

"I can see why it's so easy for you to walk among us," he heard her say, her voice a rich velvet that seemed to come from down in her chest. "So slight and neat. So agile. Remove the rest."

He baulked, not sure if he heard her right. Link turned his head to peer over his shoulder, and within a fraction of a second her features changed from amused to impatient.

"Remove the –?"

"Undress," she said smartly, cutting him off. He hesitated a second longer until her penetrating, jade stare seemed to flash at him. Link's thumbs slid into the silk sirwal and he toed off his shoes before he slowly pushed the loose desert pants downwards. He could feel the still air of her shop breeze against his bare backside, and he wondered _why_ he was allowing her to put him in so dangerous a situation.

Greta grabbed the back of his trousers and, patience gone, pulled them down with a firm tug. Immediately her 'special visitor' went stock still, pale and exposed under her appreciative stare. The few candles that burned cast attractive shadows over his figure and she bit her lip, suppressing the urge to pull him down onto her lap and devour his mouth with hers. Not now that she was so close to the real prize…

"Turn around," she said again, knowing full well what was waiting on the front. She expected him to hesitate. Perhaps to grab hold of his clothes or to use his hands to protect his modesty. But, already, her "little voe" was learning his place and he turned for her. Greta sat back like the Queen she felt like, enjoying the reveal of his arousal. A thick cock that jutted out, hard and warm and already dewy wet from excitement. She watched as he faced her fully and she allowed herself a devious smile, looking back towards his flushed, waiting face.

"Most impressive," she hummed, pleased to see him falter and look away. _'Perfect_ ,' she thought, aware that it was significantly easier to train someone who was embarrassed by kind words than shameless exhibitionism. "Tell me – is all that for me?"

Link's brow furrows. It's suddenly harder to think then it was before. He knows he's in danger because there's no real protection for him here. He's trespassing where no man had before, and he's never been more exposed while doing it. But all he knew was the scent of vanilla teasing his senses. The sounds of Gerudo going about their business just outside, oblivious to what was happening to him. And the metallic jingle of Greta's bangles, and the shade of green that danced in her eyes and on her lips.

"I don't –" He was cut off as she reached out and grabbed him. His world became a warm hand holding his erect shaft, moving it slowly before a firm, flat thumb teased the sensitive tip.

"I know you little voe's have to be _awfully excited_ to get this... aroused," Greta hummed. Link opened his mouth and she gave him a slow, firm pump, silencing him. "You must be thinking all sorts of naughty things right now to be like this. And there's nobody here but you and I. So. Is this for me?"

He opened his mouth, once again having his breath stolen as she gave him a languishing stroke, surfing her thumb around the flared tip and smearing slippery precum across his flesh.

"We all have our secrets," she cooed at him, leaning forward in her seat. "You can tell me, Link…"

He nodded, not trusting himself to talk. There was something soothing about the way she said his name that made him act, lifting his head up and down in the affirmative. Greta immediately favoured him with a knowing smile.

"I'll tell you mine then," she said, sitting back in her chair like a Chieftain on her throne. "I like to be _in charge_. So, I'm going to offer you a choice…" Greta crossed one long, lean leg over the other. Her shoe had come loose and dangled off one of her toes as she lazily kicked it back and forth, giving it all her attention and none to the nude Hylian before her.

"You can leave now. Turn around. Get dressed. Cover your shame and keep your pride. And never darken my doorstep again."

Link felt like he had been struck, wondering where _this_ had come from. Part of him yelled ' _run_ _for it_ ' but his body refused, keeping him rooted to the spot, sure there was some mistake going on. And then the Gerudo looked up from her play, gazing squarely at his flushed features. His heart once again thumped harder within his ribcage.

"Or you can stay here, and do exactly what I tell you. Like a good voe…" Her shoe dropped to the ground and her bare foot travelled up Link's leg, coming to rest on his thigh. "Whatever I say, whatever I ask, you will follow without question. And I'll reward you as I see fit." Tanned, green-painted toes dug into the muscle of his leg as she sat back and waited. "What's it going to be?"

Link could only stare, unable to move. Some rational part of him told him to quit whatever madness she was into. Whatever benefits came with being a member of her secret store wasn't worth these shameful commands. Stronger still was the urge to find out just how great a reward she was offering him. Already she was sending thrills of excitement through his body that he had never experienced before, even after tackling the beasts of Hyrule.

"Would you like to know what kinds of joys I offer?" she asked, and Link mutely nodded. Greta once again favoured him with a slow, knowing smile, keeping her eyes on his heated face as she withdrew a bottle and tipped it up. Thick, clear fluid dribbled over her hand and she slowly stood, towering over him.

"Relax, little voe," she breathed into his ear, before curling her oily fist around his cock. Immediately a tense, scratchy groan spilt from his lips as she played with his flesh. Slow pulls that went from his tip to his base and left him trembling beneath her. He felt so very exposed. Every nerve in his body tensed as if he were in some great danger. He could only imagine what trouble there would be if he was caught here and now, naked and being fondled. It was shameful. Humiliating.

It was thrilling. His heart pounded. Blood rushed through his ears. Greta's lips brushed against his skin as she stroked his aching flesh.

"Moan for me," she commanded. "This is my sanctuary. The walls are thick, and I deserve my tribute."

The walls could be thin. The door could have been a sheet. There could have been armed Gerudo lined up outside. None of it mattered. She gave his cock a slow, hard stroke and he tensed, groaning wantonly for her. Through bleary eyes, he thought he saw her lick her lips with satisfaction, and he couldn't explain the sense of pride he felt in fulfilling her command.

"Give me your answer," Greta said now, her slick hand slowing its movements. She circled behind him, leaving him standing in her store, naked and hard and dripping wet from her oil and his precum. "Do you want to leave, voe?"

He shook his head. Talking was an effort, now.

"Do you want to stay? To do _whatever_ I tell you?"

A nod this time, and she hovered over him from behind.

"You want me to make you feel good?"

Another nod, more enthusiastic. More urgent. Her lips came close to his long ear, tickling his neck with her warm breath.

"Say it," Greta whispered.

"I want to stay," he croaked.

"Ask me. Nicely."

" _Please_ let me stay."

" _Beg me_ , voe."

"Please!" Link's voice, thick with need and scratchy from general disuse, began to rise in pitch, almost to the point of cracking. A flush of shame tore through him at how vulnerable he felt.

And then her warm hand was once again around his length. Runny oil dripped from the head of his prick as she circled and pumped him, sending shocks of ecstasy through his groin and along his spine.

"You're going to come for me," she told him. It's a fact, no different than claiming the sand is hot and the sky Is blue. "You're going to come because I _allow it_ , and every drop that comes from this cock is for _me_. Every second you feel good is because I think you've earned it. Do you understand?"

He nodded again. He doesn't trust himself to give an intelligent answer. Not now, as her tanned grip moves over his flesh with purpose. Her fist is hot and tight and slippery with oil and he can't believe how insanely good it feels, until –

"Come for me, Link," Greta hisses in his ear. His vision goes white as he stiffens and jerks and comes with another throaty moan. He feels her hand move to grab the head of his hardness before he empties. Thick, pearly cords splash across her fingers and drip onto the floor, and Link's legs threaten to fail him as she supports him from behind.

She lifts her hand, inspecting the spiderweb of seed that's clinging to her fingers. Greta almost toys with the idea of making her 'special visitor' return the favour. Her womanhood is hot and slippery and demanding attention, but she can see she's pushed him to the edge. Whatever stamina he has was exhausted under her expert care, and she knows better than to push him too far too soon. It's an art, and she's already taken the first few steps. A little reassurance, and soon enough she would have her orgasm, and many more. She would have him on his knees, worshipping her like Royalty.

"Rest up, my little voe," she whispered to him, pressing a kiss against hot, flushed cheeks. Her emerald lipstick leaves an attractive claim on him, she can't help but think.

"You'll need lots of energy, soon enough…"


End file.
